A Lovers' Affair
by Chika Winkles
Summary: It's gonna be a lonely Christmas Eve for Germany... nah, Italy won't let that happen :D A short GermIta fic for my best friend Machi. Lots of fluff. GermanyXItaly. Songfic to Fall Out Boy's The Shipped Gold Standard.


**A/N: Well then. This is a fic born of an unhealthy rediscovered obsession with GermIta. Pretty fluff-y, set to Fall Out Boy's **_**The (Shipped) Gold Standard. **_**Not too great, in my humble opinion. But hey, it's my Christmas tribute to my fave APH pairin'! Just a warning, super OOC and whatnot. As my friend said, these fics tend to turn Germany into a fluffy ball of love xD Also, this oneshot is dedicated to Machi-Chan, my own personal Normally Man (AKA Germany :3).**

_Sometimes I wanna quit this all_

_and become an accountant, now_

_But I'm no good at math_

_and besides, the dollar is down_

Germany shot a sideways glance out of his tall, arched window. It was really coming down, he noted. Small white flakes clung to the sill, gradually forming a small white mountain at the bottom of the pane. The seven-below wind was blowing furiously, constantly kicking up eddies of snow from the good nine inches already settled on the ground. Nice weather for Christmas Eve, Germany supposed, if you cared about that kind of thing. Which he really didn't. To Germany, weather was weather. He was a practical man, but you couldn't cuddle up with practicality on a cold, [lonely] Christmas Eve.

Germany's sparsely decorated home reflected his personality- simple and effective. Germany had a mind for business, for plans, strategies, and logistics. He wasted neither time nor money on excess, niceties, or anything unnecessary. His simple cause-and-effect mind wasn't built to handle emotions… which was why he preferred not to think of Italy.

_Plant palm trees on Lake Michigan_

_before it gets cold_

_I gotta feel the wind chill again,_

_before I get old_

**Knock! Knock! Knock! **Three sharp raps on his door startled Germany out of his reverie. Who on Earth could it be? he wondered, disgruntled. Surely there weren't any fights breaking out, not on Christmas Eve…. He stood up from his plain, unadorned desk with his signature smooth, mechanical way and made his way over to the door.

Opening it in one fluid motion, his piercing blue eyes met ones of chocolate brown. He took in the slim, short figure, the errant curl of hair, the arms laden with presents and decorations, the omnipresent happy expression.

"Italy?"

_I wanna scream "I love you" _

_from the top of my lungs, _

_But I'm afraid that_

_someone else'll hear me…_

"_Ciao_," the Italian beamed. "_Buon Natale_!" With that he barged in, mumbling cheerfully about the weather. Germany followed him back to the living room, mind short circuiting. He had such a clear head when it came to battles and brawls, so how could one man reduce his brain to an unresponsive, sluggish mush? Turn him into a stuttering nervous wreck?

"Germany~!" the sing-song call rang out as Germany entered the room. "Why isn't your tree decorated?" The brunette was already busy spreading festivity, hanging stockings and strings of garland from the mantle and stringing lights from the ceiling.

"Here, let me get that," Germany offered stiffly as Italy struggled to pin up the lights. His hand innocently brushed Italy's as he reached up, filling Germany's head with unfamiliar thoughts and feelings.

"Let's start a fire~!"

Germany sighed internally. Did the man ever stop?

_You can only blame your_

_problems on the world for so long,_

_before it all becomes the same old song_

_Soon as we hit the hospital,_

_I know we're gonna leave this town_

_And get new passports and_

_get get get get get out now…_

"Italy…" Germany sighed, and the man stopped in the midst of piling logs in the fireplace. "Why are you here?"

"Why? Because I want to be with my Germany on Christmas Eve~! It's all about loved ones! _Germania sciocco!" _And he continued piling on logs. Germany allowed a rare smile to distort his crisp features, then walked over to help Italy with the fire.

It was well known that he and Italy had a… thing, a romantic something-or-other blossoming between them. Germany could no longer deny the certain attraction he felt towards the man, but he tried valiantly to explain it away. Germany was a man who's life was built on a strict set of rules and regulations, and his feelings for the Italian man abided by none of them.

"_Ve,_ Germany, let's decorate the tree!" Italy grabbed him by the hand, dragging him away from the now-roaring fire to the plain tree. Italy released the blonde's hand, plunging it instead into a box brimming with ornaments.

_All the yes-men said,_

"_No comment."_

_My mouth got going,_

_the wrong way and all the calls_

_started snowing._

_The time my dad caught me a horseshoe crab,_

_and I asked him if throwing it_

_back into the sea would bring_

_our luck back…_

Italy's feminine hand emerged from the box toting a string of small multi-colored and patterned bows, hand-sewn by the looks of them. He strung them about the tree happily, and it immediately made the sad tree look better. Germany watched in admiration. In just 20 minutes, Italy had been able to transform the barren room into a homey, cozy place of festivity. Not so much with his decorations and presents, but more with his mannerisms and irrepressible cheer.

Knowing he would get chided for not helping, the blonde man grabbed a handful of ornaments and started hanging them from the delicate branches.

"That's the spirit!" Italy beamed at him.

"Yeah…" Germany mumbled, entranced by the brunette's smile.

_I wanna scream "I love you" _

_from the top of my lungs, _

_But I'm afraid that_

_someone else'll hear me…_

In a whirl of activity (and with minimal help from Germany), Italy decorated the rest of the tree. He then proceeded to crowd the base of the tree with gaudily wrapped presents, plucking a small, brightly colored piece from the mass.

"Germany~! Your Christmas Eve present!"

"Eh?"

Italy towed him over to the couch stationed in front of the fireplace and they sat down. "You always open one present on Christmas Eve! Silly Germany!"

Germany stared, unenthused, at the colorfully wrapped present. "You didn't have to… I mean, I didn't get y- " The box jumped in his hands.

"_Mrrf!"_

"…."

Italy was grinning. "Open it, open it, open it!"

Rip. Tear. Pull. In several seconds an adorable, wagging puppy sat in Germany's lap. A blonde ball of fluff with the same gooey chocolate eyes as the elated man sitting next to him.

"I…" Germany's heart melted when he gazed upon the puppy before him, but he could never let Italy see that. "Thanks."

_You can only blame your_

_problems on the world for so long,_

_before it all becomes the same old song_

_Soon as we hit the hospital,_

_I know we're gonna leave this town_

_And get new passports,_

_get out now…_

"No problem!" Italy trilled. "I know my Germany likes dogs~!"

'My Germany…' The taller man mused at the affectionate term. Well, he supposed one could consider the smaller nation "his Italy…" A small smile creased his face.

"Really, Italy. Thank you," he said, and Italy knew that was the most emotion he was going to get out of his usually cold-hearted lover. So he sidled closer to the muscular German, rested his head on his shoulder and asked, "Whatcha gonna name him?"

There was a long silence.

"You pick."

"Really?" Italy exclaimed. "Great! We'll call him Alfredo, Al for short~! **^.^**"

"**-_-** Alright. Good boy… Alfredo." Italy laughed at Germany's hesitant words and scooted ever closer, mischievous grin betraying his intentions.

_Tell that boy I'll leave you_

_alone now_

_Like a stove, I'll turn my love down_

_Supra and the prophet are both_

_in the business of souls_

Waves of discomfort radiated from Germany as the Italian nuzzled up against him, but his resolve melted when he looked down to see that ever-happy, feminine face mere inches from his. Germany closed the space between them with a sudden sureness, and their lips met in a clash of repressed emotions. Italy's hand slid to Germany's waist, whilst the latter's hand wandered upward to find purchase in the former's shaggy hair. Alfredo, bored by the two of them, hopped of Germany's lap and began curiously sniffing around his new home. Germany, paying his lively present no mind, leaned forward slowly, and Italy complied by leaning back until the two of them were breathlessly half-sprawled on the too-small couch.

"Italy?"

"Yeah?"

"I think… I might love you."

A laugh. "_Bene. _I love you too."

_I wanna scream "I love you" _

_from the top of my lungs_

_But I'm afraid that_

_someone else'll hear me, whoa oh_

_I wanna scream "I love you" _

_from the top of my lungs_

_But I'm afraid that_

_someone else'll hear me_

_You can only blame your_

_problems on the world for so long,_

_before it all becomes the same old song_

_Soon as we hit the hospital,_

_I know we're gonna leave this town_

_And get new passports and_

_get get get get get out_

_get get get get get out now…_

**A/N: Well that was fun. Merry Christmas :D They make such a cute couple… hope you enjoyed reading =]**


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